The Past Is Another Country
by fowo
Summary: Crocodile sleeps well in Doflamingo's presence, while Doflamingo is haunted by nightmares. Oneshot, H/C


Crocodile didn't like the wetness that came with sex. And everything was always very wet with Doflamingo; his mouth, his kisses, his shoulder blades and the nape of his neck from sweat, sticking his short golden hair to tanned skin. Crocodile idly looked down between them, disdainfully noting that, admittedly, he had contributed a little to the mess.

He evaded the kiss Doflamingo wanted to press onto him. "Get off me already," he said gloomily, still trying to catch his breath, pushing the man away. "You're heavy."

"You're such a bad liar," Doflamingo chuckled, but pulled out anyway. More wetness followed. Crocodile grimaced at Doflamingo's grin, knowing he gloated whenever doing this to him.

Well, Crocodile allowed it, didn't he...

He sighed at little to himself as he got out of bed to clean himself up. Just like that, Doflamingo was left behind, and he got comfortable between the sheets and while folloing Crocodile with his gaze as the man vanished into the bathroom. He heard the shower run and sucked idly at his teeth. He was still dwelling on the afterglow of his own orgasm, and he didn't care for the mess they'd made. He didn't mind much that Crocodile would run away the second they finished sleeping together to clean himself up. Or run away, altogether, leaving him behind until their next little rendezvous. Bust mostly Doflamingo found it hilarious how desperately the man tried to deny what they had together.

But sometimes, just sometimes he thought it would be nice to... sink together as one; one giant creature, devouring everything, wreaking havoc wherever they went and ready to coat the world around them in chaos. He knew Crocodile had the same fantasies as himself; destructive and insane, of violence and power. It was not only this similarity in cruelness that drove the two of them together—no matter what _Crocodile_ said about their liaison. But their views of _how_ were always rather different from each other. Still...

He sighed. He knew these thoughts were crazy. Rationally, he knew this. The feeling, however, remained.

Doflamingo looked at his hand. He smiled at a red mark, bruising already, that very clearly bore the shape of Crocodile's teeth over the bone of his thumb. The remains of a muffled yell, and a little keepsake for him to take home.

The smile idly faded.

It wasn't enough, sometimes. He had it all, but it wasn't enough. Sighing, he crooked his fingers as a thread shot over the candles, snuffing out the only source of light in the room. He closed his eyes as unnerving darkness closed in on him.

Startled, he woke again when he felt movement beside him. He smelled soap, a temporary concealment of the pungent scent of tobacco which would return with a newly lit cigar. His heart beat rapidly. He strained himself not to pant. He raised his head when from beside him Crocodile pulled the blanket over their bodies.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" His voice was like the darkness.

"Nah," Doflamingo said and rubbed his nose. "I don't sleep."

Crocodile made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat but settled on the pillow next to him, his broad back facing Doflamingo. "Don't sleep well, then," he said, voice muffled in the sheets. "And don't wake me when you leave," he added slowly, voice already heavy with sleep. "Just scram and don't make a fuss."

Doflamingo never slept longer than Crocodile. He always was up early, restlessly driven from the sheets, even though he would prefer to wake Crocodile up with a nice little morning fuck to tie up loose ends. But Crocodile was always in a foul mood when Doflamingo did that, and Doflamingo had learned his lesson. It was easier to fuck all night instead and get little sleep afterwards.

"Alright alright, sheesh," Doflamingo simply said. He watched Crocodile's back bow when he curled up. Crocodile slept like a child, contracted, arms and legs pulled in close, savoring the heat of his body. Doflamingo knew how much sleeping habits reflected the life you lived. He wondered what had made Crocodile sleep like this. What cold had he felt in his life to be so scared of losing his warmth? And still he withdrew from touch rather than sought it. It would be so easy to lose himself in an embrace for the night. Doflamingo would keep all the cold away. He would never let go again.

Doflamingo longed for it.

He sought it, with every fiber of his being. Pulling him close and sinking into him was what he wanted more than anything. But he would rather forgo himself than make Crocodile suffer for his needs. He knew consideration wasn't one of his strong traits, so the rational part of his mind knew the fact that he was willing to do this probably meant something.

But he was sure to keep his distance, albeit there always was this longing; this _emptiness_ inside his chest that he wanted Crocodile to fill, to stuff with himself and make him whole.

He lay in the darkness and listened to the nothingness around them. Crocodile breathed beside him. Doflamingo let his fingers slide over the cool bed sheets, stopping only when he felt a change of temperature near Crocodile. He was right there next to him, he was so close. There was no need to be nervous. The blankets would warm up around their bodies; even when he wasn't in his arms, Crocodile would still be with him under the blanket. It had taken him years to get Crocodile at least let him sleep next to him like that. The man obviously had issues of his own. He could never force him to take another step. This was fine.

It would be fine.

His breathing changed eventually. Crocodile was asleep. He didn't stir. The silence rang in Doflamingo's ears. He carefully turned to face Crocodile, staring at the dark spot he imagined to be his head. He tried to think of nothing, make his mind as blank as the darkness around them. Eventually Crocodile moved a little, turning around to face him. Doflamingo held his breath not to wake him, but Crocodile only sighed sightly in his sleep and remained still otherwise. Doflamingo brought his hand up gently and made a single, silken thread that he spun around Crocodile's neck—not to harm, but to hold. He felt his pulse and breath gently tugging at his finger, and with a little more reassurance that he really was there, right next to him, Doflamingo noticed he calmed down enough to close his eyes and slowly, though unwillingly, drift into sleep.

He held on to the thread like a lifeline as the abyss opened under his feet.

* * *

Crocodile had had trouble with sleeping for the better part of his life. He was a night person to begin with, preferring the solitude of the night over the bustle of day anytime. Fitting his natural rhythm into the grid of civilized life had never been easy on him. Ironically enough, Doflamingo's presence made things easier. He was an early bird, and while Crocodile had no intention of getting up when he did, he fell asleep easier with him around. It was a sign of weakness—that's what he told himself to avoid admitting that this really was trust—so he was wary of it happening too often.

When it did, though, he was glad. It meant he didn't have to lie awake for hours and hours on end, staring into the darkness, listening to his thoughts. And even if he did, he could just turn his head and stare at Doflamingo's face instead. It was something he quite liked doing—when it was dark, and the idiot was asleep, and wouldn't judge him, or flash that stupid grin of his and throw him off. In these calm moments, Crocodile could sometimes even admit to himself that whatever liaison they had wasn't solely based on some fucked up mutual physical attraction.

To top everything off, he was a light sleeper. Doflamingo usually tossed and turned in his sleep, and every move would wake him. And sometimes he simply woke on his own after barely three or four hours of sleep, as if his subconscious just needed to check if he was still alive and away from danger. A life on the seas changed a man.

So he wasn't surprised when he woke and it was still dark around him. He sighed gently, not fully conscious yet, and stretched, nuzzling the pillow underneath him. He slowly grew aware of his surroundings, the memory of his evening with Doflamingo coming back to him, and he only then realized what was missing: Doflamingo was nowhere on his body. He was not keen on cuddling, but Crocodile was sure that even if they fell asleep in different beds he would still wake with Doflamingo's gigantic body tossed over him. It always happened. Now that it hadn't, he felt alarmed.

Suddenly very much awake, he sat up.

Doflamingo sat beside him in the darkness, and Crocodile opened his mouth for the first snarky remark he could muster, but he swallowed it down when he noticed the trembling. Doflamingo was shaking violently, as if he was freezing. They were both naked, and the window was open, but it wasn't cold. This was highly unusual.

Then Crocodile noticed the heaving. Doflamingo's shoulders shuddered with every strained intake of breath. There were the unmistakably choked sounds of violently suppressed sobs. There was soft wailing.

Crocodile felt something in the pit of his stomach curl.

Things never got emotional between them, not really. Neither of them expected this to be a functional relationship. Neither of them wanted it to be. They had their demons. They didn't want the other to deal with them. So Crocodile's first impulse was to lie back down and pretend he hadn't noticed. But he didn't. Something stopped him, but he couldn't say what it was. It cost him more willpower than he thought it would when he brought his good hand up to touch Doflamingo's shoulder.

Doflamingo cringed. He obviously hadn't noticed Crocodile while his mind was still overflowing with the shadows of his nightmare. While only turning halfway, he batted Crocodile's hand away like he was a pesky, unwanted insect. Wetness glinted on his cheeks in what little light was in the bedroom.

Crocodile flicked his tongue at the rude gesture. "Hey," he said, making it sound annoyed. He could barely see Doflamingo clutching at the blanket. He grabbed Doflamingo's shoulder again, not letting him push him away this time. But there was no fight. The trembling Crocodile felt under his fingers was frightening. It was nothing he was prepared to associate with someone like him. Frankly, he didn't know what to do. He wondered whether to say something, but figured if he was uncomfortable with the situation it had to be worse for Doflamingo.

So he just gently tugged at Doflamingo's shoulder, pulling him closer and wrapping his left arm around him. He felt for his chin with his right, and he noticed hot wetness run down his fingers. He made a little sound in the back his throat. He wanted it to be dismissive, but he realized it sounded much more gentle than that. Against what was only a pathetic struggle, he softly placed his hand on Doflamingo's wet face.

It would have been a terrifying move in any other scenario, and Crocodile didn't think he had ever used his powers like this in his entire life. The tears on Doflamingo's face vanished under this touch.

Crocodile gently rubbed a dry thumb over Doflamingo's cheek. They didn't say anything. Doflamingo's breath was still erratic, but he had visibly calmed down. Crocodile was glad he didn't have to see his expression. He figured Doflamingo was okay with it, too.

They sat in silence for a while, Crocodile holding Doflamingo with his left arm and catching every tear on his face with his right hand. Doflamingo's breathing calmed down eventually.

When he was relatively sure the tears had stopped, Crocodile wanted to let go of Doflamingo and was surprised when the man instead leaned in further. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled him close, nuzzling his nose in the short blond hair that smelled so familiar of fruit and sunshine. "You okay?" he asked softly after a while. It was a stupid question, and he felt embarrassed for asking it the second he had asked.

"Hmm," Doflamingo said. It wasn't exactly a yes, but then again, with whatever ghosts haunted Doflamingo, he probably would never be okay. Crocodile knew because he was the same. "I'm sorry," Doflamingo continued. His mouth lay on Crocodile's collarbone. His breath was hot and felt not unwanted. His breathing had calmed down, too. "This is so lame."

"Don't be," Crocodile said and shook his head a little. Doflamingo's hair tickled his lips. "It's a cruel world. To get where we are, you got to see some nasty stuff. I get it."

"You have no idea," Doflamingo said. It sounded like he was smiling when he said it, which only meant he was being sincere. And he was probably right, too. Crocodile probably had no clue.

He shrugged a little. "Spare me the embarrassment of wanting to talk about it," he said into Doflamingo's hair, his thumb gently rubbing the nape of Doflamingo's neck. His skin was cold from sweat. It felt new and unsettling. Doflamingo was usually so hot. Nothing was familiar about this situation and Crocodile felt uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, this is bad enough as it is, I don't want it to become agony for us both." Doflamingo pulled up his arms which had lain useless at his sides the entire time, and put them around Crocodile's shoulders. He leaned forwards, and Crocodile resisted at first, but the pressure and weight became too quickly too much, and he made a disgruntled sound through his nose before the both of them tipped over, Doflamingo on top.

Crocodile sighed and wondered why he allowed it, although he knew the answer.  
Doflamingo placed a kiss on his chest before resting his head on the exact same spot. He had pulled the blanket over their bodies again, and he was getting warmer again. Very slowly the scene relaxed. When Crocodile noticed how he trailed his fingers through Doflamingo's hair, it was too late to inconspicuously stop, so he simply didn't.

"We should get back to sleep," he said eventually. "Still a few hours until dawn."

"Yeah." Doflamingo didn't move. Neither did Crocodile.

He finally sighed. "You're still heavy, you know."

"You'll live." Doflamingo nuzzled his face against Crocodile's shoulder, wrapping one arm around his chest as if to prove a point. He couldn't see it, but he just knew Crocodile rolled his eyes. But he said nothing.

"Doflamingo," Crocodile muttered lowly over his head after it had been quiet for a while.

"Yes?"

"... sleep well."

Doflamingo grinned. He nodded. "I will," he said, his mouth on Crocodile's naked skin. Crocodile's hand was still on his head and Doflamingo felt him brush his fingers softly against his hair. It felt nice. He smiled when he closed his eyes again.

* * *

aevium was the beta for this one. Many thanks to her. The title comes from a song by Rome. I currently seem to do all my writing to his songs. I'm not well accustomed to H/C fics so this was a new one for me. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think.


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